


Avenger's Game of Tag

by athletiger



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Movie Night, Avengers Playing Tag, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Bucky with a Puppy, Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Minor Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, Nick Fury is Not Amused, Not Canon Compliant, Peter is a Little Shit, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Pre-Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Tag, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 04:50:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14825586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athletiger/pseuds/athletiger
Summary: It wasn't supposed to go on this long, but it just...happened. It started off as a child's game of tag, but the Avengers just had to evolve it into something long and glorious, collateral damage included.Inspired by Jeremy Renner's new film "Tag." In theaters June 15.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [neverthelessthesun](http://archiveofourown.org/users/neverthelessthesun) for the beta! Also, thanks to all Disco friends for the inspiration!

Tony was the one who suggested it for team training and bonding.

Clint laughed. “I _knew_ you were a child at heart, Stark.” In his hands were several arrows that he placed in his quiver one by one. Natasha smirked.

“I don’t deny it,” Tony quipped back.

“What is this game of tag?” Thor asked.

“One person, called ‘it,’ chases the rest of the players, trying to touch them and pass the position of ‘it’ to someone else,” Clint gleefully said. “Like this!”

Clint turned around and slapped Tony’s back. Hard. He sent him stumbling a couple of steps forward into Steve, and Steve automatically reached out and steadied him. “Tag, you’re it,” Clint hollered. “No tag backs!”

Tony swung around, already raring for a fight, but Steve interjected before he could do so. “A game of tag sounds like the perfect training exercise to me.”

Thor laughed, his voice booming in the training room. “Ah, of course! Loki and I have played something similar. In our game, we would chase each other with knives and swords instead, and we would try to stab each other.”

For a moment, everyone stared at Thor with skepticism, but Thor took no notice. Instead, he swung his hammer, taking off into the air. “In that case, let us begin!”

Tony looked at the rest of the Avengers that were still on the floor, contemplating. Clint was safe, for now at least. Natasha was scary, and Tony didn’t want to even try tagging her because she would wipe the floor with him next time they sparred together. Tony turned to Steve, he being the closest to him. He reached out slowly, but Steve just laughed, petting him on the head and fleeing. That left…

“Oh no, Tony, don’t you dare,” Bruce said, holding up a single finger in a poor attempt to stop him from coming closer. Bruce took one step back, then another, as Tony prowled forward. “You don’t want to do this.”

Tony poked Bruce with his index finger on the chest, grinning devilishly. “Tag.”

Bruce sighed.

Bruce tagged back Clint. Clint stabbed Thor with an arrow. Thor smashed his hammer against Steve’s shield, shaking the room with the force of the attack. Steve threw his shield at Tony. Tony flipped backwards in the air, catching the shield as it flew past him. Tony tossed it at Clint, who batted the weak throw aside, sending the shield clattering to the floor. Steve grabbed it and spun around, using his momentum to send flying at Tony again, this time hitting him. Tony grabbed it before it could fall back onto the ground.

“I’m holding this hostage,” Tony yelled down at Steve, waving the shield like a flag on the Fourth of July. Steve rolled his eyes, smiling fondly.

It was violent.

It was glorious.

“I think we should make it a rule that weapons cannot be an extension of people’s reach,” Tony said when he landed after Steve called the game over. Steve conceded.

However, even when training was officially over, no one could bear stopping the game. No one wanted to be “it” forever, so the team continued playing, even during off hours.

“You’re it,” Natasha said to Steve once during a mission, patting him on the back as he prepared to jump off the plane. Steve lost his footing for a moment before he regained his balance and swung around.

“Natasha, we’re on a mission!” Steve exclaimed.

Nat shrugged. “All’s fair in love and war,” she blandly replied, pushing Steve out of the airplane unceremoniously.

“That’s not fair,” Steve muttered, spinning around to prepare for landing. “I’m making it a rule that Avengers on a mission cannot be tagged.”

Needless to say, the game evolved into something long and complicated, insane and creative. Tony had JARVIS post the rules in the Tower’s elevator, and all the Avengers grinned at the sight whenever the looked at the screen. Bordering the list of rules were videos that JARVIS had recorded, playing the various ways each Avenger tagged each other.

 

I.

 

Thing is, the Avengers were competitive as hell and eager to one up each other with a more spectacular, insane stunt.  
  
Sam finally found the man who broke into the Avengers compound and wrecked his wings, and what better way to initiate one Scott Lang into the team by tagging him?  
  
Hank Pym was not very happy to see Sam on his doorstep. “Do you know what time it is? Get out of here. I want nothing to do with your boy band,” he said gruffly, taking in the sight of the wings and goggles. He went to slam the door closed, but Sam blocked him from closing the door completely.  
  
“Wait. I just want to know where this guy is.” Sam shoved a picture of Ant-Man between the crack of the door and doorframe.  
  
Hank sighed heavily. “That piece of shit is living in that hellhole of a dump he’s calling an apartment.”  
  
Sam perked up, hopeful. “Address?”  
  
Ten minutes later and a promise to Hank that he won’t let Tony Stark replicate the Ant Man serum while he recruited Scott to the team, he practically skipped away from the Pym mansion with the location. If he were any more childish, he would have clapped his hands in glee.  
  
...scratch that. He was that much of a child. Sam rubbed his hands, smirking evilly. Time for payback.  
  
The window of the apartment was dark when Sam arrived. Sam manipulated the final tumblr into place and turned the lock. He pushed the door slowly, wincing at the low squeak the door made. He paused, waiting if anyone heard that.  
  
No movement.  
  
Sam slipped inside, hauling his load behind himself, careful not to make any unnecessary noise. Unfortunately, he could do little about the creaky floorboards when he stepped on top of it, but it seemed like this band of misfits slept like the dead.  
  
And indeed, Scott was still asleep when a tub of ice water was poured on top of him unexpectedly. He shrieked, jerking wide awake and spluttering. In his scramble to get away from the freezing water, he tumbled off of his bed onto the floor, yelling curses at the feet of the figure in front of him.  
  
“What the fuck man!” he said, teeth chattering like crazy. Above him, an unfamiliar voice laughed and laughed and laughed. Scott looked up and glared. Sam laughed harder because he looked like an angry, wet kitten.  
  
“Welcome to the Avengers,” Sam got out between peals of laughter, crouching down and patting Scott on the back. “By the way? Tag, you’re it. No tag backs. See you at the compound!”

Sam made his getaway through the window.  
  
Scott grumbled under his breath. “I’m gonna totally get you next time.”  
  
Just then, Luis and Co. burst through the door. “You okay man?” Luis asked, taking in the sight of the downed figure.  
  
Scott looked at the broken window and his sopping wet bed. “Just fucking peachy.”

II.

When assassins and spies played tag, use of deadly force came into play. They hated losing.

By now, the tag game had evolved into a streak of how many times an Avenger was “it” and the duration of his or her “it” position. Bruce was in last place, duration-wise, but he was the one who managed to tag Natasha the most often, as he had perfected the innocent and lovey-dovey act around her (she falls for it every time. She knows it whenever he is “it,” he knows when she knows it, but that doesn’t stop him from passing on the baton. She accepts it with good grace. Besides, anyway, they make a good pair in this game because she can scare people in spectacular ways that Bruce can’t. So it’s a win-win situation for the both of them.)

Clint, Sam, Scott, and Tony have a low-key race to the bottom of being tagged most often. The leadership board at the bottom half constantly moved to reflect the amount of times they were “it.”

Clint had taken to hiding even more often in the vents to avoid being tagged by the Avengers because the rest didn’t feel like following their teammate into them. Besides, Clint was a beast in those tiny spaces, able to crawl much faster than the rest of them.

Only, when Spiderman finally officially joined the Avengers, he lost his title of “the king of the vents.”

He believed that Tony was “it,” so Clint had taken to hiding himself on top of the workshop vents, watching him through the grating. Tony seemed to be unconcerned with his position, tinkering between his Iron Man suit and what he could see, another bow, most likely for him. Clint grinned and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on the new, shiny weapon so he could take it out for a test run.

After a long time, Tony put down the bow and said, “FRIDAY, mark off the bow as done.”

“Done, sir,” FRIDAY replied immediately.

Although he couldn’t see it, he could hear the smile on Tony’s face when Tony said, “Good girl. Save all projects.”

Tony walked out of Clint’s line of sight, but he heard footsteps move across the workshop and the click of the door opening and closing. Clint fisted his hands in excitement, reaching towards the grates.

Suddenly, his hands were webbed backwards to the vents’ sides. Clint yelped loudly and knocked his head against the vent in surprise, and saw a certain red and blue uniform with black web lines crawling all over it looking back at him.

“Sorry sir,” a young voice said. Clint growled, lunging as best as he could with his hands stuck. Spiderman scrambled back. “Mr. Stark told me to tell you that you’re ‘it.’”

That being said, Spiderman webbed backwards out of the vents. Clint watched him go with narrowed eyes. “I’m going to get my hands on that bow, you punk, and I will shoot your ass with it.”

Tony leaned against his workshop door and grinned as Clint stumbled back through the vents, making loud banging noises the whole way as he did so.

However, it wasn’t Steve nor Bucky nor Wanda who claimed the top of the leadership board, although the “it” count was low. Rather, it was Vision. According to the board, he was tagged a total of zero times.

“I can’t believe that Vision hasn’t been ever tagged!” Tony exclaimed, pouting.

“Considering that he can walk through walls, it’s not that surprising,” Natasha pointed out. “Besides, he doesn’t really get the concept of this game. And I don’t think he happened to be anywhere near where the game is active. Makes the most sense.”

“And he has Wanda on his side,” Sam groaned dramatically.

Just then, Thor walked up to the congregation, having visited Jane for the past several days.

“GOOD AFTERNOON, MY FRIENDS!” his voice boomed more loudly than usual, making everyone within the ten feet radius flinch. “It is a good day, is it not?”

“Someone’s especially happy today,” Peter said, as he joined the small group huddling in front of the Tag leadership board.

“Indeed, my Spider friend, in more ways than one!” Thor replied. He swung Mjolnir in the air, flipping and catching it heads on tails and tails on hairs, as he casually looked over the heads of his teammates. “I see good friend Clint has dropped to the bottom of the leadership board again.”

“That’s because a certain someone,” Clint coughs “Tony” before continuing on, “keeps sending another certain someone,” here he coughs out “Peter,” “after me in the vents! I can’t _hide_ anywhere!”

Thor leveled him with a curious look. “You know,” he said, contemplatively, “I haven’t been tagged for a month.”

He sent them a sly grin before he sauntered off.

“That son of a bitch!”

So now, they weren’t going for one Vision, but Thor as well.

When the Avengers were on a mission, they were intense. And occasionally deadly. But mostly intense.

With Tony as the brains of the operation and FRIDAY as the bait–she would always side with her creator, they set out to trap Vision.

“Vision, Sir wants to see you in his lab,” FRIDAY said.

Vision nodded, putting the sieve on the cooking counter. He gave Wanda a quick kiss on the cheek before he left to find Tony.

“Tony,” Vision said, walking through the walls of the workshop, “FRIDAY said you wanted to see me?”

Tony was sitting in his chair in front of the multitude of computers screen, spinning idly round and around, twirling a pen between his fingers. He brightened when he saw Vision.

“Yes!” Tony said, jumping up from his chair and stumbling just a little bit. “Whoops, too fast.”

Tony walked towards Vision, grinning. “I need some help.” He paused, leaning forward and sniffing.

“Were you making...cookies?”

Vision nodded. “Chocolate chips, sir.”

Tony blanched. “Is someone helping you?”

“Wanda is.”

“Oh, okay then. Then it’s fine.” Tony flapped his hand at the direction of Vision.

Vision tilted his head.

“What did you need me for?”

“Oh! Right. You’re it.”

Tony patted Vision on the shoulder as he walked past the android. “Go tag Thor. He hasn’t been it for a month.”

Still bemused, he stood there for a moment and two. When Tony turned back around to see Vision standing there in his workshop from where he was picking up a wrench and threatening DUM-E with it, he frowned. “Why are you still standing there? You have the best chance of tagging Thor.”

“I don’t get this concept of ‘tag,’” Vision admitted.

Tony sighed dramatically, plopping himself back down in his chair. “FRIDAY, send him the Wikipedia description of it, and send him the rules while you’re at it as well.”

A beat, then, “Ah, I see.”

Tony laughed. “Okay, now go tag Thor.”

Vision phased into Thor’s room. Thor was staring, mesmerised, at the TV screen.

“Fair Kim Kardashian is beautiful even when she is pregnant!” Thor said at the screen. “Do not belittle her.”

“Thor,” Vision interrupted his one-man commentary. He walked closer.

“My worthy brethren! What can I do for you?” Thor cried out happily. Vision patted Thor on the shoulder.

“I believe you are it.”

Thor leaped up from his seat. “No! You have betrayed our brethren bond! I will seek revenge!”

Vision walked through the wall again as Thor scrambled out of his room, breaking down his door in the process. Tony saw the commotion as Thor raced down the hall yelling about how he will seek vengeance on the brotherhood of the Avengers.

Tony laughed, toppling out of his chair as he watched Thor chase the rest of the Avengers.

III.

Tony makes a side game for his own amusement to tag everyone at least once. And after the person he tagged tagged someone else, he would ask him or her to form an alliance.

It was great because he had the best ideas to tag his fellow teammates spectacularly. Plus, he was the first one and so far the only one to tag Vision.

However, even after tagging everyone, the only one who he hadn’t tagged yet was Bucky. For some reason, Bucky always knew when Tony was in his proximity and was “it,” and somehow he never gotten caught.

It didn’t help that every time he was about to attempt tagging Bucky he would trip and face plant onto the floor. (Bucky laughed every time before subtly dislodging the invisible tripwire from the area.)

Clint, Sam, and Scott was in the hallways of the compound doing this three-way tag, slapping each other as hard as they could.

“Hey!” Scott yelled, bending over in pain. His arms covered the section between his legs as he groaned.

“Sorry,” Clint said, sounding not sorry at all. In fact, he sounded gleeful.

“What are you guys doing?” Tony said casually, walking causally past them. His eyes widened as the three simultaneously turned to face him.

“Oh no,” he said, backing away slowly, before he turned and ran back the way he came from. The other three were hot on his tail.

Clint put on a burst of speed and tackled Tony to the ground, the other three jumping on top of him in a splayed imitation of a dog pile.

“You’re it,” Sam said, reaching down to slap Tony on the arm. Tony groaned, his voice muffled by the floor.

“Gerr’off.”

So now, once again, he was “it.” And he wanted to tag Bucky because he was the last one on his hit list. Back to the drawing board then, because the assassin was wiley.

Tony looked at his accomplice. “Okay, so what you’re going to do is go find Bucky, be your cute self and distract him while I find a way to tag him. Capisce?”

No answer, but Tony smiled all the same. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Bucky was in the library when he heard padded footsteps walking across the carpeted floor. He frowned, because those steps were unfamiliar and too light for a human. He turned around, guard up, glaring at the intruder who dared interrupt his reading-time.

And then he softened.

“Buck?” Steve asked beside him, feeling the change of Bucky’s emotion wash over him. He looked up when Bucky didn’t answer. “Bucky?”

In his hands was a small puppy. “Hey you,” Bucky crooned, watching as the little dog padded his legs like he was swimming in air.

Steve smiled, watching the interaction between Bucky and the puppy, who was panting happily in Bucky’s hands. Too cute. Steve flipped his notebook to a clean page and quickly sketched out the scene, grinning all the while.

Bucky heard it when human footsteps came into the library, but he ignored it.

“We’ll call you Moose.”

Behind him, Tony choked, and Bucky grinned when he heard Tony yelp as he fell over. Again.

But he didn’t hear the “thump” of a body hitting the ground, so he spun around to see Steve catching Tony in his arms before he fell completely to the ground. Tony broke free from Steve’s arms stepping away and forward, hand outreached to tag…

His fingers brushed Moose as Bucky stepped away from Tony’s outstretched hand. Tony pouted.

“I was going to tag you!” Tony whined, his shoulders hunching forward. He turned to face Steve. “I was supposed to tag Bucky!”

Bucky’s eyes widened as Steve stretched out his arm, allowing Tony to tag him. “Nope!” Bucky yelled, clinging Moose against his chest as he ran out of the library, Steve chasing after him.

Tony stood there, still pouting. One day–one day, he was going to get Bucky. Especially for naming the puppy “Moose.”

IV.

Bucky watched Tony and Steve dance around each other for the longest time. If he wasn’t in on the game, he would have assumed that the two were playing a game of coy and hard-to-get with all the UST stinking up the Avengers compound.

It didn’t even take three days living at the compound after Steve found him when he realized how lovesick the two were.

Bucky was nursing a cup of coffee in the communal kitchen, finding comfort in Steve’s presence working on making breakfast for the rest of the team, when Tony slid into the communal kitchen, dead on his feet when he plopped himself on one of the barstools, propping his chin on his head.

“Coffee,” Tony muttered, making a grabbing motion with his other hand towards the direction of the coffeemaker. Steve had this indulgent look on his face when he placed a plate of pancakes with blueberries in front of Tony.

“Eat first,” Steve said. When Tony pouted, Steve chuckled, placing a fork into Tony’s outstretched hand. “Eat, Tony. Then we’ll see you about getting you a cup of coffee.”

Not six bites later, Tony fell asleep, his head next to his plate.

Bucky himself had a cup of coffee in his hand, but he almost spit out his mouthful of coffee when Steve brushed a gentle hand upon Tony’s hair before carrying him, bridal style, off to what presumably was his room. When Steve returned, he took one look at Bucky’s face, and he shook his head, putting his hands up.

“No, Bucky, no. Whatever you’re thinking, just...no,” Steve said.

Bucky grinned salaciously. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

Steve reiterated, “Tony’s not my boyfriend. He’s in a relationship with Pepper.”

But as time went on, Bucky saw that Steve’s feelings towards Tony were reciprocated. Tony stared at his best friend’s ass when Steve was turned, and when he met Miss Potts for the first time, the interaction he saw between Tony and Pepper were that of really close friends instead boyfriend and girlfriend.

He saw the way Steve and Tony were standing more-than-platonically close to each other when they were out on the field, finally done with the latest Avenger’s mission.

They both were dense idiots. That needed to change.

They were sitting in the communal living room, sprawled out over the various pieces of furniture scattered there, while Thor, Tony, Clint, Sam, and Scott were tussling and arguing among which movie that they were going to watch that day. The living room, during movie nights, was a no-tag event because Steve wanted to encourage team bonding as well, not just constant training and fun rivalry.

Natasha came out victorious after jabbing Sam in the gut, promised Tony and Clint that she would cut their balls off if they _didn’t back off_. After fixing Sam with a hard stare, he gracefully bowed out (although that effect was ruined by him covering his crotch.)

“Jane Austen,” she declared as she put the movie on.

Thor nodded. “Excellent choice, beautiful Natasha! Seeing the fair lady Jane is the most perfect way to spend this evening!”

They boys groaned, but they quickly stifled it when Natasha’s back straightened and slowly turned, promising murder if they didn’t. Shut. UP.

Bucky held a book in his hand, intending to read while the movie played–he was a great multitasker, thank you very much–but he got distracted when Tony slumped into the couch that he and Steve was sitting on, wedging his way into the middle.

Indeed, Tony was exhausted; Bucky could see the deep bags under his eyes due to his seventy-two workshop marathon right before the Avenger’s klaxon rang for a mission. So while everyone else were wired up from the fight against large robot dogs wrecking New York City (no thanks to Doom), Tony was about to fall asleep right where he stood.

Steve automatically stretched his arm out to accompany Tony when he pressed against length of Steve’s body. Five minutes later, Tony unconsciously nuzzled Steve’s shoulder and passed out.

Bucky was more or less focused on his book, but occasionally, he would look over when Tony shifted his weight while he was asleep, and he caught Steve’s sentimental and lovesick look. Bucky rolled his eyes. Looking at everyone else in the living room, he could see the sentiment were shared across their faces.

Tony awoke from his unscheduled nap when the credits began to roll, and he yawned and stretched.

“That was great!” he chirped, looking like he slept for a full night of sleep instead of two and a half hour nap to catch up on four days of non-sleep.

“You didn’t even watch the movie,” Natasha replied dryly.

Tony bounced up from the couch. “Thanks for putting on the movie! I’m going back to my workshop. Things to create, you know.”

Peter followed on the heels of Tony like a puppy, and Steve followed them out of the living room. “Hey Tony!”

Tony paused walking, turning at the sound of Steve’s voice. “Yea?”

They were in the corridor, so the team couldn’t physically see them. Bucky grinned widely; the rest of team returned the grin. The plan was in place. Bucky leaped over the couch, making his way out to meet them.

He caught Peter’s eyes as he casually walked to where Steve and Tony were talking. He smirked.

They never knew what was coming.

“Mr. Stark! You’re it!” Peter yelled, pushing Tony forward. Bucky shoved Steve into Tony, and they stumbled into each other, and their lips–well, it wasn’t so much of a hot kiss than it was a surprised mashing of lips and gnashing of teeth. They leapt backwards in shock.

“Kiddo–”

“–Bucky!”

They yelled simultaneously, but Bucky and Peter already raced off, laughing.

“You needed to get your heads out of your asses,” Bucky shouted over his shoulder. “Just fuck already!”

As they turned the corner, Bucky heard Tony say to Steve, “That means you’re it, right, since I kissed you?”

V.

For once, the Avengers were more or less presentable to Steve and Tony’s wedding. They sat at the very front row, watching the procession with happy tears in their eyes. Tony was lovesick, looking one step away from jumping Steve’s bones. Pepper, who had arranged the whole event, had threatened Tony with castration if he messed up all her fine work. If Tony had a choice, he would have completely skipped this whole pomp and circumstance and eloped instead. But Steve wanted this, ever the traditionalist, and so Tony happily stood there in front of his lover, his hands placed on top of Steve’s.

Behind the Avenger’s were the various reporters and camera crew that came along to record this momentous occasion. It was a necessary hell, with two prolific celebrities getting married in public, but for once, they kept their distance.

It may have also been because Happy was there promising murder if they stepped out of line.

Steve smiled gently, gazing into Tony’s eyes. He mouthed “I love you,” and his grin grew wider when Tony blushed at the words. Tony unconsciously licked his lips, his tongue darting out and back into his mouth. Steve was raptured, and he almost missed his cue.

“Do you, Steven Grant Rogers, take Tony as your lawfully wedded husband?” Coulson asked. After a long moment, Steve nodded. Phil barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

“I do.”

“And do you, Anthony Edward Stark, take Steve as your lawfully wedded husband?”

Tony’s heart burst with the love he had for the man in front of him. He gave a watery smile back, happy that they were finally here. “I do.”

Phil made them wait, watching them squirm as he looked at each of them for a moment. A beat of silence filled the air, everyone holding their breath in anticipation, and he finally took pity on them. “You may now kiss.”

Tony immediately wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, tilting up to kiss Steve’s lips. Steve met him halfway, bringing one hand behind Tony’s neck to deepen the kiss. Steve probed his tongue between Tony’s lips, and Tony opened his mouth eagerly, accepting Steve.

Suddenly, Steve broke away and stepped back. Disoriented, Tony instinctively did the same. As they parted ways, Clint intercepted between them, hand outstretched. In Tony’s kiss-dumbed mind, Clint looked comical, running like he was in a vat of jello.

Tony’s brain whirred faster, seeing Clint bursting through and tackling Coulson to the ground.

“You’re it!” Clint shouted on top of Phil. Phil groaned from the ground. Clint laughed, pecking Phil on the cheek, before he scrambled off of him and running away.

Steve grinned. “Shall we leave before this all turns to chaos?”

Tony took Steve’s outstretched hand in his. “Of course. We wouldn’t want to be ‘it’ on our honeymoon, would we?”

So they ran off as Phil got off from the ground, his normal calm façade ruffled by the tussle on the ground. He had a glint of murder in his eyes as he looked at the other Avengers sitting there. He took one menacing step forward, and the Avengers fled.

Pepper just shook her head, giving into the inevitable. She was running a house of _children_.


	2. Addendums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three scenes that didn't fit the original plotline.

The Avenger’s Game of Tag

  1. This is a team _bonding_ exercise, not a game of life and death. (Thor/Clint, that means you _cannot_  try to stab someone.)
  2. The player who is “it” must tag the other person physically. Shooting a weapon as an extension of you does not count (*cough*Captain*/cough*) However, you may down another to tag him or her.
  3. These are the following “no-tag” sites: the communal kitchen and the living room. Avengers on missions are no-tag events. Once completed with the mission, however, is free-for-all.
  4. There are no “tag-backs.”
  5. Truces are allowed.



 

I. Here in Wakanda...

“Package for you,” T’Challa announced, walking towards Steve. In his hand held a small box wrapped in a nondescript brown paper.

Steve took the package gingerly, raising an eyebrow. T’Challa stared back placidly. Finding no deception, Steve looked down and tore open the package. Inside was a white box. Steve hesitated, one hand propped under the box and the other touching the lid.

When he opened it, there was a white index card, dead center.

“You’re it.”

Tony’s glove lifted itself up from the box and tagged him before it fell to the ground, useless.

Steve laughed. “That son of a bitch!”

 

II. Never play Tag on the Helicarrier

Clint chased Steve down SHIELD’s corridors, hoping, just hoping that he would be able get Steve for once. Clint paused, notching an arrow at Steve’s back. Steve laughed, knocking the arrow aside with his shield before he turned around and dodged around someone standing in front of him.

Clint was not so lucky. He ran straight into Director Fury.

“Tagyou’reit,” he said breathlessly, putting a hand on his chest and bending down to catch his breath.

“You would do well to take your hand off of me, Agent Barton,” came Fury’s dry voice. Clint yelped, scrambling back. Fury raised an eyebrow.

“Are you playing a child’s game, Agent?”

Clint shivered at the menacing tone of Fury’s words. “It was a team bonding exercise!” Clint burst out, cringing slightly. He looked down in submission.

Fury looked back to where Steve was standing at the end of the hall. He walked towards Captain America. “Keep it out of SHIELD’s missions.”

Fury patted Steve on the shoulder. “And for the record, you’re…it.” The last word was said with distaste, and Fury walked away.

 

III. They play Capture the Flag

They weren’t bored with tag, per se. They just wanted a change of pace.

One flag was in the Avenger’s Compound, the other, on Tony’s platform of Stark Tower.

“Avoid destruction if you can help it,” Steve ordered both sides. “It’s not a mission, we don’t need to wreck anything.”

Hah, fat chance.

Because when it came to the Avengers, it was all or nothing. At least they could take comfort that, with all their destructive behavior, they didn’t kill civilians?

HYDRA agents though, was another matter entirely.

How Clint roped Director Fury into moderating their game from the Helicarrier was a mystery, really. But there he was, in the sky, overseeing the entire game as Steve led Bucky, Clint, Sam, Wanda, and Scott against Tony, Rhodey, Vision, Natasha, Peter, and T’Challa. Each side roped several SHIELD agents to support their team.

“Wanda, you have the best chance against Vision’s powers, so stay here as our last defense,” Steve ordered. Wanda nodded, and Steve laid out a map of New York. There were two “x’s” where Steve had marked to indicate the Tower and the Compound.

“Sam, you’re our aerial support. Stall Rhodey and Tony if possible. Scott, you’re on defense. Stall them on the ground. Block the roads. Clint, support Sam. Get on the rooftops and shoot anyone that breaks into our territory. Bucky and I will lead offense.”

Steve smirked. “Knowing Tony, he’ll be impatient. If we can eliminate them one by one, we should be able to do a hostile takeover.”

Everyone assented.

“Are the teams ready?” Fury said over the comms, listening to the cacophony of “yes’s.”

“Alright motherfuckers. Let’s begin the game.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND YES! DONE.


End file.
